The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,50
The Victorian style of masterly man won’t do these days. Is he coming to Paris with them?”
“Not that I know of.”
Molyneux nodded. He didn’t speak, but Will got a strong impression of, Good.
The rest of the dinner passed swiftly in general conversation, and it only dawned on him that this might not have been the most useful way to take up Molyneux’s time as the party broke up. He caught Kim’s eye guiltily and got a brow-twitch in return.
“It was delightful meeting you,” Molyneux told him. “I do hope Miss Zie will come to rue Royale to see me. I like her style very much—it has great flair, and what one might call a measured eye, daring without recklessness—and I should be pleased to talk further. Er, are she and you...?”
“Friends, that’s all.”
Molyneux smiled, a little slower. “In that case, I should be delighted to see you too.”
KIM USHERED WILL AND the women into a taxi for a drink at his place, where he set about cocktails. Maisie and Phoebe sat together on the sofa, eyes bright; Will lounged by the cocktail cabinet watching Kim’s mixology.
Kim gave him the ladies’ drinks—sidecars, apparently—to pass on. “That was a success, I think. Except Bubby. What in God’s name possessed you to invite him, Phoebe?”
“I invited him before all that, with Adela,” Phoebe protested. “I got Elizabeth Ponsonby to ask him on a spree tonight to get him out of the way, but he must have changed his mind.”
“Does he have one?”
“Don’t be unkind. And I’m awfully sorry he turned up, but I can’t be blamed because Will decided to thump him in a night-club.”
Will held his hands up to that. Maisie said, “Why did you?”
“Don’t ask,” Kim said. “Were you pleased with tonight?”
“It was wonderful.” Maisie’s eyes were bright. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t thank me at all. My reward was watching Will discuss signals intelligence with Teddy Molyneux.”
“Oh, is that what you were discussing, darling?” Phoebe said. “I did wonder.”
“As well you might, since Molyneux invited him to Paris. I am shocked, William.”
“What?” Will said, startled and alarmed. “No, he didn’t. I mean, he did, but—”
“Darling, we all know Teddy,” Phoebe assured him. “You should be flattered: he’s dreadfully handsome. And only just divorced, so you really might go and comfort him as a kindness.” She gave him a mock-reproachful look before bursting into giggles. Maisie’s eyes were wide.
“Yes, but he got married for comfort after that affair with Harold Nicolson,” Kim pointed out. “And God knows who Nicolson was comforting him about, but it was probably some good-looking soldier, in which case we come full circle. He should stop for a minute and take stock.”
“Not of me he shouldn’t,” Will said. “I mean, nice chap—”
“And staggeringly good-looking,” Phoebe added.
“But not my sort,” Will finished firmly, if not entirely accurately. Molyneux was a looker all right, and not greatly dissimilar to Kim: dark, fine features, clever mind, and given his war record he’d probably be a useful man in a tight corner. In fact, there was everything to like about him and Will did, but that space was filled.
“I feel awfully Bohemian,” Maisie said, clutching her cocktail. “Goodness. Did he really invite you to Paris, Will?”
“Of course he didn’t.” Will reviewed the conversation. “Well, maybe a bit, but—”
“Ha,” Kim said.
“But mostly he was inviting you, professionally,” Will pressed on and repeated Molyneux’s words.
Maisie squeaked. Phoebe said, “Teddy has a beautiful line, desperately clean. This is quite perfect. We really must go as soon as possible. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say, although I can’t honestly see how that helps or what one is supposed to strike.”
“Iron as in blacksmiths, not laundry maids,” Kim said. “And you’re quite right. London is too provincial, and Paris is delightful in the spring. Have you booked your passages?”
“I think we should do that tomorrow,” Phoebe said. “Honestly, Maisie, we’ve so much to do.”
Maisie shot Will a panicked look. He could guess at her thoughts: But my sick auntie in Watford. But Paris is a long way from Cardiff. But people like me should know their place.
“That lot tonight took you seriously,” he said. “You should too.”
“Will is quite right,” Kim agreed. “Full many a flower is born to blush unseen and waste its sweetness on the desert air. Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Maisie said indignantly, drawing herself up with a decided shake of her shoulders that did remarkable if unintended things to her bosom in that dress. Will averted his eyes